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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27666974">The Chronicles of the Lord of Thrones</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameBaggio/pseuds/MadameBaggio'>MadameBaggio</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Cursed (TV 2020), Game of Thrones (TV), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers &amp; Fandom Fusions, F/M, Female Friendship, Girls Being Awesome, Male-Female Friendship, Multiple Crossovers, Not Canon Compliant, Strong Female Characters, and knowing they work better together, crackship, if you know me, you know I'm doing this for the fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:56:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,262</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27666974</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameBaggio/pseuds/MadameBaggio</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Narnia was enjoying peace.</p><p>Westeros was recovering from war.</p><p>Mordor was preparing to attack.</p><p>No one wants a war to start. No ruler wants to make the choice to send their people to fight and -possibly -die.</p><p>The rulers of Westeros, the North and Narnia also don’t want to be the ones to interfere with a war in another country.<br/>But what if that darkness, that war, swallows their neighbors then come for them?</p><p>That… They won’t risk.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Boromir (Son of Denethor II)/Margaery Tyrell, Faramir (Son of Denethor II)/Lucy Pevensie, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Legolas Greenleaf/Sansa Stark, Minor or Background Relationship(s), The Weeping Monk | Lancelot (Cursed)/Éowyn, Éomer Éadig/Susan Pevensie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>VERY VERY IMPORTANT, READ ME PLEASE!!</p><p>Hello, everyone.</p><p>Here’s the reason why I never finish my WIPs: I have Doris’ focus.</p><p>Before you dive into another one of my deliriums, I do believe there are some things that should be taken under consideration.</p><p>If you’re looking for a work that’s canon compliant and faithful to the source material, this story is not for you. If you don’t know how I usually work, I’ll tell you: I’m here for the fluff and to fluff it all up. So although I will use movies and (occasionally) books as guides and I always try my best to keep the characters from being OOC, it doesn’t mean that I’ll follow canon. I’ll do what I believe is best for the story.</p><p>And it starts with Game of Thrones, since I ignored basically everything that happened in the last season. So… Yeah. Dany is alive, but Sansa is still the Queen because that gives me life. I’ll explain bits and pieces of what exactly happened there.</p><p>Also, very important. Geography was never my favorite subject, so don’t ask me how any of this works. I didn’t give any serious thoughts as to where this kingdom is in relation to the other. As far as I’m concerned Rohan is down the road from Winterfell and Narnia is across the pond from Rivendell. I keep describing these places as ‘neighboring kingdoms’ but honestly… I have no idea.</p><p>This story is set in Middle Earth, during the events of the three movies. A lot of the movie scenes won’t be added or described at all, since they aren’t the point. The difference brought on by the new characters is.</p><p>Also… BOROMIR LIVES!!!!!</p><p>That’s it.</p><p>I hope you enjoy it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <em>“War is the greatest plague that can afflict humanity, it destroys religion, it destroys states, it destroys families. Any scourge is preferable to it.”<br/>Martin Luther</em>
  </b>
</p><p>The mouse had one job and one job only: to watch. She -for it would be impolite to call such a lady ‘it’ -scurried around the whole day -avoiding guards and over zealous maids -just to observe what happened in the Citadel.</p><p>Now, this mouse wasn’t actually a spy. She wasn’t going around telling people the secrets of the city and its regent. No, sir. She only listened, just in case.</p><p>It was early in the year 3018, when the sons of the regent started speaking about strange dreams and travelling to places, and yet, the mouse only listened.</p><p>When those horrid creatures attacked and the sons fought to defend the borders of their home, the mouse still only listened.</p><p>And finally, when the son of the regent -the eldest one, the most beloved one -left on a journey, it was then that the mouse thought maybe she should do more than just listen.</p><p>The day after the son left, the mouse found a man tying a letter to a raven. That was when the mouse knew: she’d decided to talk a bit too late. Someone else out there had been watching as well.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Narnia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Cair Paravel, Narnia</em>
</p><p>Spying one neighboring kingdoms wasn’t something the Queens and Kings of Narnia enjoyed doing. They actually went to great lengths to avoid it all together, especially when there wasn’t a formal treaty -or threat -between said kingdoms.</p><p>However, it had come to their attention -quite recently -that this might not have been a smart choice.</p><p>Two years prior, Westeros had been involved in a big war. Not just for the Iron Throne -as they called it -but also against the dead and the cold.</p><p>Westeros could have been destroyed and they would’ve been next, and they hadn’t even known about it.</p><p>After that they had no choice. They put their trusted ones in key locations across neighboring kingdoms with strict orders: unless something could affect Narnia, don’t get in touch.</p><p>Things had been going rather well in that sense, until they got a message from Minas Tirith.</p><p>Then one from Edoras.</p><p>Then another one from Isengard.</p><p>Whatever was happening there, it was not good; so they called a meeting.</p><p>King Peter sighed as he looked around the table; his siblings were all looking back at him. This was a hard choice, one he didn’t want to make.</p><p>Actually, the choice was already made, but he felt that as soon as he said it out loud it’d be too late to take anything back. Maybe if he held this moment, if he didn’t say the words, his siblings wouldn’t have to leave to fight another war.</p><p>“Susan.” He turned to his sister. “Are you going to Rohan?”</p><p>“Yes, Peter.” She was calm, elegant, so focused as usual. “The rumors we’ve heard about their King’s health is concerning.”</p><p>“Maybe I should go, then.” Lucy spoke up.</p><p>Susan shook her head. “There’s something telling me to go there. You should go with Ed to Minas Tirith.”</p><p>Edmund also didn’t look happy with those events. “I know why we’re doing this…” He sighed. “But I don’t like it.”</p><p>“The dark power coming from Mordor is spreading like poison.” Lucy covered her brother’s hand with hers. “Maybe now they’re looking at Gondor and Rohan, but darkness like that knows no borders. If we let them go…”</p><p>“They’ll get here.” Peter finished for her. It was time to say the words, time to make the call. “I’ll stay here and wait for your letters. If needed our army will find you. Farewell to you.”</p><p>***</p><p>Once they left the meeting, Susan started walking down the corridor. Lucy reached her and held her sister’s hand without saying another word.</p><p>Susan let her do it, just holding her hand while they walked.</p><p>There were many things Susan wanted to say to her sister and to her brothers. Many fears she wished to share, but wouldn’t dare.</p><p>She’d had dreams about this. Dark, tempestuous dreams with horses running and fields burning. She’d wake up with the taste of smoke on her tongue and name on her lips. She could never actually call it, she didn’t know who she was calling, but she knew it meant something.</p><p>When the first message from Edoras came, Susan knew that this was the place she saw burning in her dreams. She just did. There was something there, and she needed to go and find it.</p><p>“What about the other spy?” Lucy suddenly said.</p><p>“The one we think might be from Westeros? There isn’t much we can do, besides hoping they either don’t have the army or the interest in this war.”</p><p>“After what happened there, I doubt they already recovered their strength.” Lucy agreed. “However, there are rumors…”</p><p>“About the dragons?” Susan guessed.</p><p>“Dragons, Sue! Real dragons.”</p><p>“Let us hope that the rumors that the Dragon Queen is tired of wars is true. I’m not saying she wouldn’t be helpful here…”</p><p>“But what if she decided to fight alongside the enemy?” Lucy completed what her sister couldn’t.</p><p>“Exactly.” Susan nodded. “The people of Westeros… I’ve heard stories, I read books… I do not wish to put my trust on them.”</p><p>“And the people of Rohan?”</p><p>“I hope we can help each other. As we discussed… We don’t want this power to destroy the lands and then arrive here stronger.”</p><p>They had reached the garden, so Lucy stopped and turned to her sister. “I don’t want you going alone.” She confessed, still holding her sister’s hand. “I fear that, if you leave, I’ll never see you again.”</p><p>Susan used her free hand to cup her sister’s face. “You will see me again, Lucy. If not in this world, in the next one. We are bound together and I will always come back to you.”</p><p>Lucy had tears in her eyes when she hugged her sister.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. White Harbor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>White Harbor, The North</em>
</p><p>Queen Sansa Stark could still marvel at Tywin’s drive. She might despise the man for his family and on principle, but he’d been undeniably smart.</p><p>Smart to the point of being dead, and still having spies in neighboring kingdoms. She wondered how good his spies were if they didn’t know that little fact.</p><p>Tyrion had been the one to write her to let her know about the letter that had arrived from Minas Tirith. Sansa hadn’t been particularly interested in that letter.</p><p>And then…</p><p>Then news came in from the Riverlands.</p><p>And then news from Narnia.</p><p>Honestly, everyone was way too eager to move around these days.</p><p>They had to meet and it had to be fast. Sansa wasn’t interested in going anywhere near King’s Landing again, but she was ready to compromise with Queen Daenerys.</p><p>She’d been surprised when they offered to meet in White Harbor. Tyrion probably had been the one to suggest it, but she was happy that they’d managed to agree on the place.</p><p>Arya was crackling with energy and Brienne had asked more than once if Sansa was fine. She trusted her people to keep her safe and she also believed that Daenerys wouldn’t invite her for a meeting only to kill her.</p><p>Not at this point, at least.</p><p>When Sansa arrived at New Castle, she heard that Daenerys was already there. She asked just a few moments to refresh herself, and soon moved to join the others.</p><p>Sansa had nodded at Margaery when she’d entered the meeting room. The lady had winked back from her place and Sansa had to prevent herself from smiling.</p><p>It wasn’t time for that.</p><p>Apparently, it was time for another war.</p><p>Sansa could see in all the faces in that room: they were all beyond tired of this.</p><p>However, guards had captured orcs in the Riverlands. Not a good sign.</p><p>When Daenerys entered the room, followed by Tyrion and Varys, greetings were exchanged. The two queens locked gazes.</p><p>“Queen Sansa.”</p><p>“Queen Daenerys.”</p><p>Sansa could feel Arya’s tension by her side. Although there were no hard feelings between the queens now, everybody was prepared for this to go badly.</p><p>It wouldn’t. Sansa knew her priorities.</p><p>“We’ve heard the reports about the Riverlands.” Sansa prompted.</p><p>“Yes.” Daenerys sighed. “We believe it was a scouting party.”</p><p>Jon frowned. “How many?”</p><p>“Twenty.” Tyrion was the one to answer.</p><p>“Is Mordor at war with its neighboring kingdoms?” Jon pressed.</p><p>“That is the problem.” Varys was the one to speak. “We don’t know the answer and we’ve failed in making contact.”</p><p>“However…” Tyrion spoke up. “If Mordor is readying itself for war, it’d be foolish of us to think we won’t be next.”</p><p>Yes, that was what Sansa thought as well. “You mentioned a letter from a spy.” She directed the sentence to Tyrion.</p><p>“Yes. However, we only know that there’s tension. We don’t know if war is imminent.”</p><p>“Do we truly care?” Daenerys asked the table. “This is my concern. I’ve heard stories about the evil from Mordor, that’s true. But I’ve never imagined they were anything but scary stories to tell children.”</p><p>“We used to think the same about the Night King.” Jaime piped up from the back of the room. “He turned out to be quite real.”</p><p>Daenerys made a gesture as if to indicate that was her point.</p><p>“We could wait and see.” Jon pointed out. “If Mordor is going to start a war, they’ll start with the nearest kingdoms; Gondor and Rohan. This could give us more time to prepare, know our enemy, think of strategies.”</p><p>So wait a bit more time before the next war? That sounded awful in Sansa’s opinion. And -as she locked eyes with Daenerys -she knew the other woman thought the same.</p><p>They needed to get rid of the men and talk better about this.</p><p>***</p><p>Margaery had never imagined herself in the current situation, but she couldn’t complain. At least she was alive.</p><p>Sansa beside her was drinking wine and pretending she couldn’t see Arya glaring at Daenerys.</p><p>Brienne was guarding the door, but Margaery could see she was beyond curious. They all knew Daenerys hadn’t invited Sansa over for tea.</p><p>“What do you think of the meeting?” The Targaryen Queen asked Sansa directly.</p><p>“Waste of time.” Sansa looked at her. “The same as you.”</p><p>Daenerys nodded. “You also prefer if they fight away from us.”</p><p>“There’s no army left here, no land that can withstand another war.” Sansa said exactly what Daenerys was thinking. “I don’t want the North to go through that again.”</p><p>“I agree. The question is… What will we do?” Daenerys sighed. “Should we foment a war in another country to save ours?” She arched an eyebrow at Sansa.</p><p>“No.” Sansa was firm in her answer.</p><p>Daenerys grinned. “I’m glad to see us agreeing on things.”</p><p>Sansa scoffed. “Yes.”</p><p>“If I may, Your Grace.” Margaery called from her place. “If Mordor is planning an attack, they will start with Gondor and Rohan, as we’ve previously discussed. Why don’t we make friends?”</p><p>“Enemy of my enemy?” Sansa said, clearly reading the intent behind Margaery’s words.</p><p>“Maybe we’ll be really good friends.” Margaery pointed out.</p><p>“I want to go.” Arya was quick to say, almost leaping from her chair.</p><p>Sansa gave her a look. “Are you serious?”</p><p>“I didn’t get to see the orcs in the Riverlands.”</p><p>Sansa rolled her eyes. “I’ll go.” She decided. “Arya can come with me; Jon and Bran can take care of the North.”</p><p>Daenerys arched an eyebrow. “Why would you go personally?”</p><p>“This is a serious threat, and if we’re going to need diplomacy to solve it, I’d rather be the one taking care of it.”</p><p>Daenerys grinned. “I admire your drive.” She turned to Margaery. “How about you, Lady Tyrell? What do you think of a little journey?”</p><p>“I’m always eager to serve, Your Grace.” Margaery replied easily.</p><p>“Then it’s settled.” Daenerys decided. “I’ll stay and wait for news.” She nodded at the others, made a gesture for Missandei to follow her.</p><p>Sansa watched Daenerys leaving the room and sighed. “Now what?” She asked Margaery.</p><p>The lady got up and offered her arm to Sansa. “I’ll go to Minas Tirith. I’ll talk to Denethor.”</p><p>Sansa accepted her friend’s arm and started walking with her. “Would you like me to go instead?”</p><p>She’d heard that Denethor wasn’t the easiest man to talk to.</p><p>“No.” Margaery made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “You should go to Rohan. You’re better suited to talk to Théoden King. You strong Northern-types understand each other.”</p><p>Sansa arched an eyebrow. “Us strong Northern-types?”</p><p>“You know what I mean.” Margaery grinned at her.</p><p>Sansa sighed. “Those are strange times…”</p><p>“Oh I know that, darling.” Margaery patted her hand gently.</p><p>“When are you leaving?”</p><p>“Immediately. I want to get soon to Minas Tirith and start working my magic.” She grinned at Sansa. “How about you?”</p><p>“I need to take care of some things back at Winterfell before going. I’ll leave later.”</p><p>“Don’t wait too long, or I might take over Gondor before you even set foot in Rohan.” Margery teased.</p><p>“I wouldn’t put it past you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Margaery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ok, serious talk before we go into this chapter.</p><p>I’ve spent a whole night trying to figure out some stuff and fix some plot holes I created myself. Literally a whole night. The good news is that I managed to set out the WHOLE timeline for The Chronicles, fix plot points and develop the story.</p><p>What does that mean? I used most of the chronology of the War of the Ring, then I mixed things from the books, things from the movies and things from the internet. It doesn’t mean that the chronology will be perfect, as I decided to change a few things.</p><p>I don’t claim to be a specialist on any of those stories, and -as I said previously -if you really like canon, this story might not be for you.</p><p>Despite all of that, I did my best to have a cohesive timeline, and try to organize the events in a somewhat logical way. Was I successful? I honestly have no idea, but I did my best.</p><p>I didn’t bother with geography though. That part is in God's hand. Seriously, don’t ask me, because I don’t have any idea. I can tell you where Narnia is in relation to Middle Earth, but I don’t know where Westeros is and I’ve accepted that.</p><p>I also feel as if my spirit has left my body after all that ‘math’ with miles and dates. I’m not complaining though, as I feel accomplished.</p><p>Anyway… There will be a few ‘boring’ chapters at first, I guess. There’s a lot of set up to be done until everybody is in position for the story to take off. The parts about the journeys will probably be less interesting than the parts where the characters interact.</p><p>I won’t describe the parts of the ‘Lord of the Ring’ movies that don’t contain the new characters and a lot of this story will be about interactions and talks, so I just felt it was fair to warn you all.</p><p>Also… Margaery makes a few observations about Boromir in this chapter. I’m not saying this is how things are; these are her observations, based on the little information she has.</p><p>And I know in the books Mordor is farther from Minas Tirith than what’s shown in the movie, but the visual is cool, so… We’re keeping that.</p><p>One more thing. I saved Rhaegal. He didn’t deserve to be killed off like that.</p><p>I hope you enjoy it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Margaery had always wanted to be Queen. Not a Queen, the Queen, as she’d said herself once -in what felt like another lifetime now.</p><p>She was willing to do whatever it took to wear that crown, and she’d almost died for it. She had her grandmother to thank for being alive: before the trial Olenna had sent people to get her and Loras out at any cost.</p><p>Margaery had protested, thinking it was the way to defeat Cersei. Then the Sept exploded, Tommen -thinking her dead- killed himself and Cersei became the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.</p><p>Margaery realized she’d grossly underestimated Cersei. She’d never imagined the woman would go that far for power, and she’d almost paid for it with her life.</p><p>Olenna had. When Jaime Lannister took HighGarden, her grandmother had been there and she was executed for treason.</p><p>When she finally managed to look at Jaime’s face long enough to have a conversation with him, he confessed to her what her grandmother had said about Joffrey. She knew Olenna would never go quietly. It made her proud.</p><p>Once Daenerys came around, it was all about surviving, Margaery realized she didn’t care about being a Queen anymore. Power might be fun, but it meant nothing if she had to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder.</p><p>Maybe she wasn’t as smart as she’d thought before. Maybe that was fine.</p><p>She was alive and -at the end of the day, in Westeros -that was a blessing.</p><p>Besides, she didn’t mind serving Queen Daenerys at all. She was a brilliant woman and she had vision.</p><p>Therefore, if Daenerys wanted Margaery to go to another kingdom to talk to another leader… Why wouldn’t she go?</p><p>“This is all the information we managed to gather about Gondor.” Varys presented her the reports they had available. “It isn’t much, as we’ve never had that much contact or interest.”</p><p>“My father clearly had enough interest.” Tyrion commented from his place. “These are older, but they’re more detailed.” He indicated the old letters in front of him.</p><p>For what they’d gathered, Lord Denethor was the Regent of Gondor. He was a widower, and had two sons: Boromir -his favored child -and Faramir. There was a rough sketch of the family and some other accounts.</p><p>Apparently, Denethor had become a paranoid man over the years. There was a bitterness that clung to him, a certain desperation that was just always there. He wasn’t known as an easy man.</p><p>“It seems like I’ll have to keep both my eyes on him.” Margaery commented.</p><p>“You have a knack for controlling mad men.” Tyrion quipped from his place. “We have faith in you.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes. “I’ll take a small party.”</p><p>Daenerys nodded her approval. “Be careful.” She asked. “Don’t reveal too much. And if you feel like you’re in danger, send me a message immediately. I don’t care about Gondor, I’ll fly over in a dragon to get you out.”</p><p>Margaery curtsied. “Thank you, Your Grace.”</p><p>***</p><p>Loras groaned. “Gondor?”</p><p>Margaery gave him a look. “It’s an adventure.”</p><p>“Since when do you care about adventures?” He wanted to know.</p><p>“I don’t.” Margaery shrugged, because Loras knew her better than anyone, she had nothing to hide from him.</p><p>“Then why are you so interested in this?” He wanted to know. “And why do I have to go with you?”</p><p>Margaery sighed and turned to him. “I want to do something useful. I want to leave a mark in this new reign.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “And I’m giving you the opportunity to help me.”</p><p>“How generous, sister.” He chuckled, then dropped a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll follow you to the ends of the world, Margaery.”</p><p>“Good thing I’m only asking you to follow me to Minas Tirith.”</p><p>***</p><p>It was such a long way to Gondor that Margaery started wondering if this was really necessary. Certainly this evil lord wouldn’t think the effort to get to Westeros was worth it, right?</p><p>What was that interesting about Westeros anyway?</p><p>It was barely standing as it was.</p><p>They should arrive ‘soon’ in Minas Tirith, but Margaery realized her concept of ‘soon’ was being seriously challenged by this endeavour.</p><p>“Who goes there?” One of her men called.</p><p>***</p><p>Riddles didn’t make for good directions, Boromir was learning quite fast.</p><p>Well, not so fast, since he’d been wandering for three month now.</p><p>He was determined to find Rivendell, but his resolve was tested daily, especially after he lost his horse.</p><p>As things were… He shouldn’t be surprised to come across someone else out here.</p><p>And yet…</p><p>He hadn’t thought he’d find a party like this here. The guards were one thing -expected -but not the one ahead of them. “Those are dangerous times for a lady to be around like this.”</p><p>The lady in question -a beautiful young woman with catlike eyes -seemed amused by his observation. “Yet I’m the one with guards and you’re the one alone.”</p><p>She wasn’t wrong. If he’d counted correctly, her escort had around forty men. The one directly to her right was probably her kin, since they looked alike.  “It’s different.” He said politely.</p><p>She grinned. “Is that so?” She leaned a bit forward, as if she was humoring him. “Please, explain how.”</p><p>He looked around, then cleared his throat. “I meant no offense, my lady.”</p><p>“I’m sure you didn’t, Lord Boromir.” She agreed way too easily.</p><p>That was when Boromir realised something. He’d never said his name, but she seemed to know him anyway. That was never a good sign. “It seems you have the advantage over me, my lady, for you know of me, but I can’t claim the same.”</p><p>She chuckled. “I do enjoy having advantage over men.” She looked over her shoulder. “Someone bring Lord Boromir a horse.” He could see the men hurrying to obey her. What an interesting person…</p><p>She told him -eventually -that her name was Margaery Tyrell, and she was from Westeros.</p><p>“Westeros?” Boromir was surprised. He’d never met anyone from the place. “But why are you here?”</p><p>“To meet your father.”</p><p>“You’re on your way to Minas Tirith?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Westeros needs new allies.” She told him easily. “New business. We had a war recently and we will need help to reconstruct.”</p><p>On the surface it seemed like a valid reason, and still… “It is quite far.”</p><p>“What is distance when there’s friendship, Lord Boromir?”</p><p>He chuckled. “How did you know my name?” He asked the question that had been bothering him this whole time.</p><p>“There was a sketch of you. It was a bit old, but enough to let me recognize your features.”</p><p>“That must have been quite a sketch for you to know it was me, despite finding me in the middle of nowhere.”</p><p>“You have the same eyes, same nose…” She nodded towards his head. “A few more lines, I’ll admit.”</p><p>He felt she wasn’t telling him the whole truth, but if she wanted to hurt him, she could’ve done it any time. He was probably safe.</p><p>***</p><p>Margaery had been somewhat honest with Boromir. More than she’d have normally been to anyone else.</p><p>She was on a -somewhat- diplomatic mission.</p><p>She had seen a quite faithful sketch of him.</p><p>The only things she hadn’t mentioned were that she was there because a spy had warned them about a possible war, and that -although she hadn’t expected to meet him like this -she knew he was out and about alone.</p><p>He admitted he was lost, but also didn’t go into great details about where he was going. It was fine, she knew his destination -assuming said spy had been correct.</p><p>Elves. That was the type of being this land had.</p><p>Why not?</p><p>“What should I know about Gondor, my lord?” Margaery asked later, when they’d made camp for the night.</p><p>“It is my land, and I love it dearly, my lady.” He told her honestly. “Other than that, I don’t know what to tell you. The White City stands like a jewel and it has been the home of my ancestors for a long time. I wish I could describe it in a way it did it justice, but my brother Faramir is the scholar of the family. I’m merely a soldier.”</p><p>Margaery made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “I find that very hard to believe. You don’t strike me as ‘merely’ anything.”</p><p>Boromir chuckled. “You are too kind, my lady.”</p><p>Loras snorted.</p><p>“I heard that, Loras.” Margaery threw at her brother.</p><p>Boromir watched them, an amused smile on his lips. “I do find some relief in knowing you have your brother with you. These are dangerous roads.”</p><p>“And you’ve also said these are dangerous times.” She pointed out. “Should I be concerned?”</p><p>“You should always be on your guard, Lady Margaery.” Boromir told her honestly. “I do not say these words lightly. Things have been… Difficult.”</p><p>Margaery analysed him for a minute. This was a man burdened by his duties. She didn’t get the impression that he resented them; by all accounts Lord Boromir was loyal and brave. However, his life had been a constant struggle to protect his country, while the enemy stood so close. He was tired, and even though he was not hopeless -yet - Margaery felt he was losing faith in a simple solution.</p><p>He needed a new hope, something that would remind him what he was fighting for. Perhaps his father’s leadership was what was dragging him down. He was faithful to a man that perhaps didn’t deserve -or couldn’t handle -that much.</p><p>Of course, these were impressions. Margaery couldn’t claim to know anything about him after so little time. He was also good at keeping things about himself quiet.</p><p>“I thank you for the advice, Lord Boromir.” She told him softly. “We will keep it in mind as we travel.”</p><p>He nodded solemnly. “Good.”</p><p>“But also…” She decided to see if she could make him smile again. He had a nice smile and she didn’t believe he had many chances to show it recently. “I hope you’re aware that you’re indebted to be now.”</p><p>He frowned. “My lady?”</p><p>“For the horse and especially the company.” She grinned at him. “I’ll take payment when you get back to Minas Tirith. I want you to show me what you love about your city.”</p><p>He did smile. “I’ll be happy to do it, my lady.</p><p>***</p><p>Boromir wasn’t going in the same direction they were, so it was obvious they’d have to part soon.</p><p>It still seemed too soon when they finally did.</p><p>“We part ways here, Lord Boromir.” Margaery smiled at the man. “It’s been a pleasure.”</p><p>And it truly had. The two days she spent on his company had been interesting, and Margaery wasn’t the type of woman that used the word lightly.</p><p>“The pleasure has been mine, Lady Margaery.” He nodded at her, a perfect lord. “Thank you for the help given.”</p><p>“It was no mere charity.” She teased, as she’d been teasing him for the past days. “You should remember that you owe me now.”</p><p>He chuckled. “Yes. A visit to the White City.” He repeated the vow he’d made on the first day they met.</p><p>“A guided one.” She pushed with a grin.</p><p>She could almost hear Loras rolling his eyes.</p><p>“As soon as I get back, my lady.” Boromir promised.</p><p>“We’re in agreement then.”</p><p>She watched as he took the horse given and continued his journey to Rivendell. But she did hope she’d get the chance to see him again.</p><p>***</p><p>After a way too long journey, Margaery was happy to see the walls that surrounded Minas Tirith, but she wasn’t in the mood to appreciate its beauty.</p><p>Especially because now came the hardest part.</p><p>Getting there was something, but she’d have to use all her wits to actually talk to the Regent.</p><p>The guards at the gate demanded to know who they were, since they couldn’t recognize their banner. Once Margaery explained who she was, whom she served and why she was there, she was told to wait.</p><p>Her party was escorted to an outpost in the first level of the city and told to wait. A soldier left -likely to warn someone else of their arrival.</p><p>At first, they were met with suspicion and caution, but in one hour Loras and Margaery had managed to put them all at ease and were given food and drink. Their horses were taken to a stable and their men were also resting.</p><p>Eventually, Lord Faramir arrived to talk to them.</p><p>“My Lord.” Margaery curtisied prettily.</p><p>“My Lady.” Faramir bowed his head to her and her brother. “I… I was truly surprised by the news of your visit. Was there a missive we missed?”</p><p>“Not at all. You’ll have to forgive us for showing up unannounced like this.” Margaery told him. “We didn’t know if any correspondence would actually reach you.”</p><p>“So you are from Westeros?” Faramir asked carefully.</p><p>Margaery passed to him a letter written by Daenerys. “Yes, My Lord. I would like to talk to your father, if possible.” She lowered her eyes. “I do understand if he doesn’t wish to see us, since we came like this. If that’s the case, I’d ask you to kindly let us rest for a few days before leaving again.”</p><p>Margaery hoped she wasn’t overdoing it. She was convinced Loras was trying not to snort at her act.</p><p>Lord Faramir looked from the letter in his hand to their faces a few times, before sighing. “I’ll take you two to my father. He can make the decision.”</p><p>***</p><p>It took a while to go all the way up to the so-called citadel. It was in the seventh level of the city and it had an impressive view.</p><p>Once they reached the courtyard, Marge’s eyes were drawn to the mountains ahead. It was as if there was a shadow covering what came beyond them, a reign of darkness.</p><p>She shared a look with Loras, and she knew her brother was thinking the same: Mordor.</p><p>There was also a dead white tree in the middle of the courtyard and Marge concluded it was important, even though it looked like that.</p><p>She made a note to look into it later.</p><p>They were taken into what Faramir called the Tower of Ecthelion. Faramir was quiet as they walked behind him, and Margaery and Loras kept looking at each other.</p><p>This place was… Strange. There was something about these cold hallways that chilled Margaery. Perhaps she was being fanciful, but she felt strange there.</p><p>They were brought all the way to the throne room, where a white throne sat empty, while a man sat on a black chair on a low dais.</p><p>Lord Denethor II was hunched on his chair, his face marred by a serious frown as he watched Faramir bring the two inside the room. He was clearly displeased by their arrival.</p><p>Marge saw two people on the corner, watching from a safe distance. One was a young lady -really young -with black long black hair. The young man next to her was probably kin, since he looked so much like her.</p><p>“Who are you?” Denethor demanded, bringing Margaery’s attention back to him.</p><p>“My Lord.” She bowed low, perfectly graceful. “I’m Lady Margaery Tyrell, from Westeros. My Queen, Daenerys Targaryen, has sent me here to discuss a possible alliance between our kingdoms.”</p><p>The name captured Denethor’s attention. “Targaryen? From Westeros? I thought they were all dead.”</p><p>Faramir passed the letter Margaery had given him to his father.</p><p>“Who can truly defeat a dragon, my lord?” Margaery asked.</p><p>Denethor didn’t open the letter. His eyes focused on Margaery. “Does she have a dragon?”</p><p>Margaery’s smile was perfect. “No, my lord. She has two.”</p><p>***</p><p>Margaery knew that talking about the dragons was the right choice. Denethor had liked the idea of an ally with dragons.</p><p>He hadn’t said that, but Margaery could see the idea forming in his mind. He’d welcomed the two Tyrells and said he’d like to learn more about Westeros.</p><p>Margaery thanked him for his hospitality.</p><p>Faramir seemed cautious around them, but he introduced them to the other two people there: his cousins Lothíriel and Amrothos.</p><p>Margaery had been right about Lothíriel; she was truly young and naive. She became -quickly - Margaery’s best source of information. She was always talking. All the time.</p><p>She still didn’t know who was the spy from Westeros, since the person hadn’t revealed himself to her.</p><p>After one week there, Margaery sent Sansa a letter, telling her what she’d discovered so far. She told the Queen that there was no need to hurry on her journey to Rohan, as there wasn’t enough information yet.</p><p>What Margaery didn’t know was that, while she sat in her room writing her letter, a little mouse had watched her, then read it as it was left to dry.</p><p>The little mouse hurried to let her rulers know about the lady from Westeros who was conspiring with a Queen from the North.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Sansa</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've had a hard time with the titles and how people should talk to each other.<br/>I kind of read something about it, but also went with the feeling.<br/>Let me know if something is weird ;)</p><p>Also! Let me know if you think it's better I start adding dates to the chapters, so it's easier to follow the story.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sansa received Margaery’s message and thought long and hard before coming to a decision.</p><p>She called the people she trusted to her side. “I’m leaving to Roahn soon.” She declared.</p><p>Bran nodded. “It is a good plan.”</p><p>Of course that was all he said and Sansa didn’t expect anything else from him.</p><p>“Let me go, Sansa.” Jon asked. “This can be dangerous.”</p><p>Sansa shook her head. “I would rather do this myself.” She told her cousin. “I know it’s dangerous, but we are there to prevent a war, or at least prevent it from getting here. If you go, in a month you’ll be offering our army or at least vowing to go to war yourself.”</p><p>Arya snorted, and Jon looked mildly offended, but he probably knew she was right.</p><p>“Should we get soldiers to go with you, Your Grace?” Davos asked from his place.</p><p>“I don’t want a big group.” She turned to Arya.” Would you like to go?”</p><p>Arya arched an eyebrow. “You’re really asking me?”</p><p>“You said something about fighting orcs, but this will be a boring diplomatic mission. You might not get your wish.”</p><p>Arya considered this for a moment. “Either way, I won’t let you go alone.”</p><p>Sansa didn’t want to be surprised by her sister’s vow, but she was a bit. Their relationship had never been easy, and only now it was mending. Arya had wished to travel after the war was over, but chose to stay for a while longer since the North was still suffering after the battle against the dead.</p><p>Sansa had taken many things for granted when she was younger, and the gods hadn’t been kind when they showed her how wrong she’d been. There were too many losses and so much pain in the past, that -most days -Sansa couldn’t even afford to look back.</p><p>She’d learned a lot, that was true. However, the cost of her learning was one she wasn’t about to be grateful for. </p><p>The only blessing now was that she could protect her people, and the North was free. She also had family by her side, which was much more than she’d dared to hope for at some point.</p><p>“Ser Brienne, Ser Jaime?” She turned to them. “How about an adventure?”</p><p>Brienned bowed immediately. “I’ll go wherever you go, my queen.”</p><p>Jaime sighed dramatically. “Well, if I say ‘no’ now, I’ll look bad.”</p><p>Sansa ignored him and looked at Ser Clegane. “You?”</p><p>“I can’t let you two out of my sight.” He grumbled, indicating Arya and Sansa with his head.</p><p>“My Queen.” Theon took a step forward. “I’d go too, if you’d have me.”</p><p>Sansa smiled at him. “Of course I’ll have you, Theon.” She turned back to Jon. “As you can see, I have the best the North has to offer to keep me safe.”</p><p>“Charmer.” Jaime called from his place.</p><p>Jon sighed. “Maybe I should go as well.”</p><p>“No. I need you and Bran to stay and take care of the North for me.” She told him firmly. “The work is never done and the people trust you two. I trust both of you.”</p><p>Jon sighed once again. “Now I know how you felt when I said I was leaving.”</p><p>Her smile was cutting. “I’m glad you do. We have a lot to prepare and not so much time. Let’s get this done.”</p><p>***</p><p>“There are no orcs.” Arya grumbled from her horse.</p><p>“I’ve heard they walk only at night.” Jaime called from his horse. “Maybe one of these nights they’ll sneak in and cut your throat, little wolf.”</p><p>Arya snorted. “They wouldn’t be able to sneak on me. But I’d let them cut your throat before waking the others up.”</p><p>Sansa snorted from her place, but didn’t get in between them. Arya and Jaime had a peculiar relationship, but it worked for them. At least her sister didn’t threaten to kill him anymore -very often- and Sansa considered this a win.</p><p>She turned her attention to Sandor, who was riding next to her. “Have you ever traveled to Rohan or Gondor?”</p><p>He shook his head. “Never needed to. The only thing I know about Rohan is that they love their horses. They’re supposed to be really good horses. King Robert wanted one for himself, but it’s a ridiculous idea to get a horse from so far away.”</p><p>Sansa nodded her agreement. “I’ve only heard stories from most of these places. To me, they’re as distant as Essos is. And just as fantastical.”</p><p>“I used to think the same about dragons and the living dead, and look what that got me.”</p><p>Sansa smiled. “Yes, you’re right.”</p><p>Sandor gave her a look. “Do you really think we can prevent a war here?”</p><p>“I have no idea.” She admitted. “To be quite honest, I don’t understand exactly what this war is about. Some of it seems like the things you’d read in a book; dark lords, vile creatures, magical rings…” She sighed. “If this is a diplomatic matter, maybe it can be solved. However, if it isn’t…”</p><p>Sandor hummed his understanding. “Right. But how long will we stay?”</p><p>Sansa understood his concern. They didn’t have an army and it would take a long time to get one here. If they were really on the brink of war, there’d be nothing to do, and Sansa couldn’t afford to be in such a dangerous situation.</p><p>“We will see what the people of Rohan have to tell us.” She told him firmly. “Then we might just leave.”</p><p>***</p><p>Rohan was a country of grassland. It was a green land, with plains sometimes as far as the eye could see. Sansa found the weather pleasing to her.</p><p>There weren’t many people or villages around, which made Sansa wonder if they were just distant, or if people were moving because of other difficulties.</p><p>When they finally caught sight of Edoras, Sansa thought how it reminded her of Winterfell for some reason. They were vastly different places -Winterfell was a fortress of stone -but something about Edoras reminded her of the strength of the Northern people. Maybe she was just being fanciful.</p><p>She gave Arya a look, and her sister just nodded, before turning her horse around and separating herself from the group.</p><p>The rest of them made their way to the gate and asked to be let in. The guard gave them all a hard look and asked from where they hailed, then seemed really confused about their answer.</p><p>Once they were let in, Sansa pulled her hood down, revealing her crown. She hadn’t wanted to travel with it, but Jaime had pointed out it might be a good idea to have a firm reminder that she was also a Queen.</p><p>A guard asked them to follow him.</p><p>“Is it me…” Jaime murmured to Brienne, “or is this place very…”</p><p>“Somber?” She offered.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“It’s not you.”</p><p>They were taken to stone steps that led to the King’s Hall. Sandor dismounted from his horse and helped Sansa next. The guard said that their horses would be taken care of, and that they should talk to a man named Háma before being allowed to enter.</p><p>Sansa climbed the steps with the others behind her, and was greeted by a man in armor.</p><p>“And who would you be?” He asked her as soon as she climbed the last steps.</p><p>“I am Queen Sansa Stark from the North.” She told him. “I seek an audience with your King.”</p><p>“North?” He seemed confused.</p><p>“We have recently become independent from Westeros, if that helps.”</p><p>The man’s eyebrows almost hit his hairline. “Westeros? You are a long way from home, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“It’s ‘Your Grace’, mate.” Sandor growled at him.</p><p>Sansa made a calming gesture to Sandor. “No harm done, Ser Clegane.” She gave the man in front of her a smile. “Is that a problem, lord…?”</p><p>“Háma, Your Ma… Your Grace.” He cleared his throat. “You can’t enter to see the king with your weapons.”</p><p>“Of course.” She turned to her people. “You heard him.”</p><p>Jaime seemed ready to say something about it, but a look from Sansa and he changed his mind. “Careful with that sword.” He told the man that got Oathkeeper from Brienne.</p><p>The man snorted and promptly ignored him.</p><p>Sansa was finally allowed to enter the hall. It was a large place, with its walls covered in beautifully woven tapestries. It was cold in there, even colder than outside. It was also dark, despite the day being bright outside. The hall felt stuffed, suffocating.</p><p>On the throne sat the king. Sansa tried to remember how old he was supposed to be, since he seemed ancient.</p><p>He was old, so very old. Covered in furs, bending over as if there was a great weight on his shoulders. If someone told Sansa he was just a ghost, she’d believe it, because he seemed more spectre than man.</p><p>At his right there was a greasily fellow, sitting on a chair, very close to the King. As soon as his eyes took Sansa, he leaned and whispered by the King’s ear.</p><p>There were two other people that grabbed Sansa’s attention, since they were a bit behind the King’s throne. One was a young woman with pale hair, and next to her a tall man with a scary frown.</p><p>“Hail, Théoden King.” Sansa called as she approached. “It is an honor to be in front of such a king as yourself.”</p><p>“Sansa Stark.” The king’s voice was weak, distant. “I did not know there was a queen in the North.”</p><p>She could feel Brienne and Theon seething from his neglect to call her Queen. “It is a recent development, sir. It doesn’t surprise me it has not reached Rohan.”</p><p>The black haired man once again leaned close to the King to whisper.</p><p>Interesting.</p><p>“And what does such a young queen want from us?” Théoden asked, his voice seeming even weaker than before.</p><p>“Friendship, sir.”</p><p>“Why should we become friends with the North, Queen Sansa?” The man in black finally chose to speak from himself, instead of feeding his words to the King.</p><p>“And who would you be?” She questioned, her tone icy.</p><p>The man bowed -clearly unhappy. “Gríma Wormtongue, Your Majesty. The king’s chief advisor.”</p><p>Sansa nodded her understanding. “The new Queen of Westeros is right now seeking a friendship with Gondor.” She informed the man. “As she seeks new allies, so do I. You never know when you may need them.”</p><p>Gríma studied her for a minute longer, then his eyes moved to those behind her. “Are these your people, my lady?”</p><p>“Yes, they are.”</p><p>His eyes were calculating. “Have you brought an army? We would need to accommodate them.”</p><p>“No, I have not. I brought just those I trust to keep me safe during the journey. This is merely a diplomatic trip.”</p><p>“It is curious that we seem to be receiving a lot of those now.” He commented. “Queen Susan from Narnia is also coming to Edoras. But she wrote a letter.”</p><p>Sansa saw from the corner of her eyes Sandor’s hand clenching. He wasn’t happy with the way this man was talking to her and it showed.</p><p>Sansa didn’t know about that. Why was the Queen of Narnia on her way to Edoras?</p><p>She knew less about Narnia than she did about Rohan, most of it were legends and tales. Therefore she couldn’t even guess what Queen Susan was after, or if her decision to come here was also related to the possible war.</p><p>“You know what they say about Narnians…” She said anyway. “They are all polite and proper, until they start shoving stories about magical lions down your throat.”</p><p>***</p><p>Éomer watched in silence as Gríma whispered venomously by his uncle’s ear. Éowyn -standing next to him -was so tense, it looked as if her body was about to break. Her eyes were in the woman with red hair.</p><p>Queen in the North.</p><p>Éomer didn’t like this, and didn’t trust her at all. Her guards seemed more like hired-swords -especially the big one with the scar -and her words all seemed covered in a veil of deceit.</p><p>As if she said all of them in a way that would allow her to retract them as soon as possible.</p><p>“Éowyn.” He called softly to his sister. She just nodded to show him she was listening. “I have to leave. I need to find Théodred. Keep an eye on her.”</p><p>His sister just nodded again.</p><p>***</p><p>Sansa disliked Gríma on sight and she didn’t trust him at all.</p><p>Lord Éomer, the King’s nephew, had left before she could even be introduced to him. From what she heard, he hated Gríma with a passion, but was loyal to his uncle and country.</p><p>Sansa wished she’d had time to talk to him, because things were complicated at Rohan. People were unwilling to talk, and it was difficult to say if it was out of loyalty or fear.</p><p>The only person left to talk to was Lady Éowyn, the king’s niece and Éomer’s sister. However, she’d also been avoiding Sansa, which the Queen felt was quite telling.</p><p>Sansa had seen the way Gríma had watched Éowyn during dinner. It reminded her of Baelish and it made her skin crawl.</p><p>The Queen looked for the lady everywhere, until she finally found her, a sword in hand.</p><p>Éowyn seemed scared for a minute, surprised to be caught with it.</p><p>“Nice sword, Lady Éowyn.” Sansa told her easily. “Do you fight?”</p><p>The woman pressed her lips together, before giving Sansa her back. “You wouldn’t understand.” Éowyn said firmly as she put the sword away.</p><p>From what Sansa had understood, she likely did it to protect herself. Lady Éowyn probably didn’t want Gríma knowing about the sword she kept. Sansa had found her with it by pure luck.</p><p>She’d arrived the day before and had managed to talk to Gríma and figure some things out. He was controlling the country by controlling the King. She just didn’t know how.</p><p>Yet.</p><p>Arya hadn’t entered the city with her. She was walking around, trying to find information. Jaime was doing the same, but he wasn’t incognito like her sister. He was being his natural charming -but annoying -self. Theon and Brienne were sticking to her side, but it’d been Sandor -obviously -who’d bothered Gríma at first.</p><p>Then Sansa made the man believe Sandor was a hired sword and possibly her lover, and he let go of the subject.</p><p>Lady Éowyn clearly despised Gríma, but Sansa didn’t know if that made her an ally. She didn’t look like the ambitious type -as if she’d been coveting her uncle’s crown from behind the scenes -but it was always good to be careful.</p><p>“I wouldn’t understand?” Sansa spoke dryly. “Because I do not wish to fight?” Éowyn didn’t answer the question, and that was telling enough. “You’re correct; I don’t want to fight that way.”</p><p>Sansa wondered if Éowyn thought she was weak because of that. Not that she particularly cared. “But I do want to protect my people.” She continued. “Caring for them is a job without glory, but someone has to do it.”</p><p>Éowyn turned to her, a careful look in her eyes. “So no, I don’t understand your desire for glory in battle, but I respect it. I just wish you’d respect my choice to stay away from it.”</p><p>“It’s not that.” Éowyn protested. “It’s just hard not having a choice, having to do what is expected of you just because…”</p><p>“You were born a woman?” Sansa offered. “Because there are expectations that were thrown at you, and nobody ever bothered to ask you if you wanted them or not? Or maybe at some point you thought that was exactly what you wanted, but one day it was just not enough anymore, but you were still trapped under them?”</p><p>Éowyn was looking at her, somewhat startled.</p><p>“Trust me, Lady Éowyn, I know very well about the cages that trap women in this world.” Sansa told her. “I was in one for a long time.”</p><p>“And now you’re free?”</p><p>“Duty is also a cage.” Sansa admitted. “However, this is the one I chose for myself. If I have to live for something, let it be my country and my family.” She gave Éowyn one last look. “If that’s your choice, do it by sword or feather, but don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t do it.”</p><p>***</p><p>Sansa had written a letter to Margaery as soon as she’d arrived in Edoras, letting her know about Queen Susan. </p><p>Margaery’s letter said that the Queen’s siblings were already in Gondor, and by the time it arrived in Edoras, so had Queen Susan.</p><p>“I’m sure you can be friends.” The letter said. “It would be better if it was one of her brothers, but you never know. She might have something in common with you.”</p><p>Sansa scoffed, thinking of the Queen she’d met days ago. “I don’t think so.”</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Lucy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for the kudos and support!</p><p>As the other chapters, this one has a lot of setting up.</p><p>The story is slow at this point, and there are two more chapters just for this reason (Susan’s and Éowyn’s). After that the events will be shown together in a more clear storyline.</p><p>I’ve been asking people if they’re okay with the dates, and if I should start adding dates to what happens in the chapters. I’ve been told so far it’s okay, but from Susan’s chapter it might start getting a little confusing. Please, let me know if you think the dates would be helpful.</p><p>I know we didn’t get a lot of LucyxFaramir in this chapter, but this will change soon. I promise.</p><p>As I said… I’m setting up the story.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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    <p>Lucy enjoyed being in the sea greatly. The open expanse, the horizon always out of reach.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>When she put herself in the front of the ship and felt the wind on her face, she imagined it was like flying.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan wasn’t much for ships, and Edmund was Edmund-which meant he liked acting as if he was above such concerns.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Once they received a missive talking about a woman from Westeros in Minas Tirith, the Pevensies had planned on leaving as soon as possible to Gondor and Rohan.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>However, as Peter would be alone for the foreseeable future, they couldn’t just leave him to fend for himself. Between all the preparations necessary -and a storm that made leaving the shores impossible -it took longer than Susan would’ve wanted for them to leave.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy didn’t know what was wrong with her sister, but she was clearly worried about something. Lucy wished she’d share her concerns, but Susan -on occasion -prefered to keep her thoughts to herself.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was quite infuriating at times.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Once their ship reached the harbor, there were people waiting for them.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Your Majesties.” An older man, with silver gray hair, bowed to them in respect. “I’m Prince Imrahil from Dol Amroth. It is a pleasure to meet you all.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Your Highness.” Lucy smiled at him. “How kind of you to receive us here.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The prince cleared his throat, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Lord Denethor thought you would appreciate a reception.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan and Edmund shared a look.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“How very… Kind of him.” Lucy said, her smile firmly in place.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We shall escort you to Minas Tirith.” Lord Denethor informed them.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan had to curb her desire to roll her eyes. “I wish you all a great journey then.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You are not coming, Your Majesty?” Lord Denethor asked carefully.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m actually on my way to Rohan, my lord.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh.” Lord Denethor gave them a pleasing smile, one that clearly meant he had no idea about this, and was trying to figure out how to react. “If I may be so bold, madam.” He started. “Do you know these roads?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>What a curious question. “I can’t say I do, my lord.” Susan admitted.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“There are passages that aren’t safe to travel, especially for one that does not know them well.” He indicated. “If you come part of the way with us to Minas Tirith, it will be a longer way, but it will also be safer.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan shared a silent look with Edmund.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Unless, you are concerned about time.” The prince prodded.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Not at all.” Susan gave him a polite smile. “I shall take your advice.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy thought Prince Imrahil to be a very interesting man.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He was the brother-in-law of the regent, and had told them -during the journey -that his daughter and one of his sons were living in Minas Tirith with their uncle. Lucy noticed quite fast that he was a good man, and that his soldiers were loyal to him exactly because of that.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She also noticed that there was some tension every time the name of the regent was mentioned. She could see her siblings noticing the same thing. What she didn’t know -yet- was the cause of such tension.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Did the prince dislike the Regent? Were they at odds? Was there something else at work?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy was careful with the questions she asked, and the subjects she pushed. She didn’t want Imrahil to be wary of her -more than he already was. They knew the prince suspected they were planning something, but he hadn’t asked, so they continued to say this was a diplomatic visit.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It wasn’t a lie.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They weren’t there to spy or tell anyone how to rule their countries. They were there in hopes that they could prevent a war.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Yes, they had their own interests in preventing said war, but it didn’t mean they intended to scheme or undermine anyone’s authority.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They just wished to understand and help.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lord Imrahil’s second son -Lord Erchirion -was also traveling with them, and he seemed beyond fascinated by the Narnians. He was constantly talking to the centaurs and fauns, and -most particularly -with Sir Reepicheep.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“A rapier.” Erchirion repeated as he analysed the blade. “I have never seen something so interesting.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s a good sword, my lord.” Reep told him. “Good for fast strikes.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’ll take your word for it.” Erchirion chuckled.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A few days before they reached Minas Tirith, Prince Imrahil asked his son to accompany Queen Susan until they entered Rohan.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sir Reepicheep decided to follow the Gentle Queen and so the siblings parted.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Once they finally reached Minas Tirith, Lucy was in awe of the city. It was like nothing she’d ever seen.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s so white it hurts the eyes.” Edmund grumbled from her side and she elbowed his stomach.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They were escorted all the way to the highest level of the city. Most of their people had to stay behind, but Imrahil assured them they’d be fine.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy wasn’t happy about any of this, and neither was Edmund. This all felt strange, like they weren’t welcome for whatever reason.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They were taken to meet the Regent; Lord Denethor was sitting on a chair, not a throne.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Behind him, Lucy could see four people. One of the men was clearly Imrahil’s son -he looked just like his father -and the girl with black hair had to be his daughter.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Which made the other two the people from Westeros, she was convinced.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Lord Denethor.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The man got up. “Queen Lucy, the Valiant, and King Edmund, the Just.” He said, his bow seeming like an afterthought. “Welcome to Minas Tirith.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s very kind of you to receive us, my lord.” Lucy smiled at him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Denethor grunted some reply, and turned to Imrahil. “How was the journey?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No problems, my lord.” Imrahil told him simply.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.” Denethor extended his hand and the -absolutely gorgeous -woman from Westeros came to him without another word being needed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She delicately placed her hand on the Regent’s, the curtsied to them. “Your Majesties. It is a great honor to meet you. I’m Lady Margaery Tyrell from Westeros.” She turned her eyes to Imrahil. “My prince. I’ve met your children, and they give you and your family credit.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She was good. Not only was she beautiful and well dressed (that dress was quite daring), but she’d also managed to be perfectly charming to all of them; and do it all holding the hand of the Regent.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy knew she would be a problem.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>After they excused themselves and were taken to their rooms, Lucy gave Edmund a sign; they needed to talk.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She was leaving her room to talk to him, when she came across a man.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Your Majesty.” His voice was soft and pleasant, and there was something appealing about his face and smile. “I’m Faramir, Lord Denethor’s son.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“My lord. It is a pleasure to meet you.” She felt her words were more honest this time. “Did I miss you when we were greeting your father?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His eyes went to the ground and his shoulders slumped. “I wasn’t told about the meeting.” He cleared his throat. “But I hope you have everything you need.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We do.” What was wrong with this place? “It’s kind of you to worry about us.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“If you need anything, please, let me know.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I shall.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He stood there, looking down at her, but not saying another word. Lucy kept a smile on her face, because she knew there was something else he wanted to say, but just couldn’t put into words. She’d give him a chance.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I wouldn’t wish to take more of your time…”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Lord Faramir, please. You’ve received us in your home. If there’s anything you’d like to ask…” She let the sentence trail off.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I've always heard tales about Narnia.” He spoke up carefully. “I just… Would you indulge me some time? Tell me about it? Your Majesty?” He cleared his throat.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It would be a pleasure, my lord.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That woman is good.” Edmund said as soon as Lucy mentioned Margaery’s name. “She strikes me as someone who can get whatever she wants from a man.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That’s what I feared.” Lucy sighed. “The thing is… What do you think she wants?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes… That’s the problem.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy and Edmund were invited for dinner with the Regent and his family. Prince Imrahil was still there. He’d remain for another week in Minas Tirith and then return to Dol Amroth.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>During dinner, it was clear he wanted to bring his children back home, but Lord Denethor wouldn’t hear of it. According to him, he needed Amrothos and Lothíriel there.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>For some reason.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Margaery Tyrell kept the conversation light and easy the rest of the moments. Her brother, Loras, was also exceedingly good at doing so. They told stories, asked questions and just made everyone at ease.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It bothered Lucy deeply that she didn’t know what this woman wanted. She kept Denethor distracted throughout the dinner; times when it seemed he’d snap at Imrahil or Faramir for no reason, she’d redirect his attention.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It would be a good thing, if Lucy wasn’t convinced Margaery was just starting.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When Imrahil left, he took Amrothos and Lothíriel with him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lady Tyrell convinced Lord Denethor to allow it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The Prince was beyond thankful to Lady Tyrell, and Lucy finally realized just how much power she had over the Regent.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The door to Margaery’s chambers was opened by a maid, who announced Queen Lucy would like to talk to her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Margaery stood up to greet the Queen, then offered her tea. Lucy sat down and the lady had to hold in a grin.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Margaery was mildly amused by Queen Lucy. The younger woman had been trying to hound her for days, and now Margaery had finally allowed herself to be caught.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“So what exactly are you doing here?” The queen demanded without any preamble.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Margaery put her cup down. “Me? Well, I’ve heard the city is absolutely lovely this time of the year, and I was terribly bored.” She leaned back on her chair.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy obviously didn’t buy it for a second. “Is that why you’ve been keeping Lord Denethor company?” She accused Margaery. “Because you’re bored?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Hardly that.” Margaery made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “He’s quite the interesting man.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy gasped. “He has lost his mind.” She pointed out.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Margaery smacked her lips. “Perhaps we can help him find it again.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy narrowed her eyes. “What game are you playing?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Margaery smirked at the younger woman. “The same as you, Queen Lucy. I just choose which rules I wish to follow.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy wasn’t convinced. “Are you here because of the war?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m here because My Queen has asked me to be here.” It was all Lucy would get from her at this point.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Edmund cleared his throat for the second time in five minutes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy had entered Margaery’s chamber, and Edmund decided to stay outside and wait for her. Loras -the brother -was also there, apparently guarding the door.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He seemed amused for no reason, and he was making Edmund uncomfortable.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Would you like tea for your throat, Your Majesty?” Loras offered suddenly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m fine.” Edmund said, then immediately cleared his throat again.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He could see Loras smirking from the corner of his eyes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Is being this serious a family trait?” Loras asked. “You have quite a frown.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I beg your pardon?” Edmund turned to him, agape.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m just saying, My King…” Loras gave him a sly look. “I’m curious to see what a smile would do to your face.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Edmund had to turn his head to the other side, because he was pretty sure he was flushed.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter will be about Susan.</p><p>Let me know your feelings.</p><p>You can find snippets of the Chronicles on my tumblr, @madamebaggio.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Susan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for comments and kudos!</p><p>It’s finally Susan’s turn to travel.</p><p>This story remains a bad choice if you want canon compliance and even a bit of geographic sense. If you’re here for the fun, the absurd situation and the eventual fluff, then you’re in the right place, and I hope you enjoy the ride.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="">
    <p>Lord Erchirion -as promised -followed the second Narnian group until they reached Rohan. Well, he claimed it was the border between Rohan and Gondor.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>He gave Susan a map that should guide them the rest of the way to Edoras.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>“Your Majesty, if I may…” He seemed uncertain for a minute. “Please, be careful. There are many rumors about unrest in Rohan. Orcs attacking people as they see fit.”</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Susan nodded at him. “Thank you for your warning, my lord. We will keep our eyes wide open.”</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Erchirion seemed like he wanted to say something else, but chose not to. He turned to Reep, who’d been riding with the Queen. “My lord, it’s been a pleasure.” He nodded at the mouse.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“The pleasure has been mine, sir!” Reep bowed charmingly. “I hope we meet again.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Erchirion smiled at him. “So do I.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Parting from Lord Erchirion gave Susan the opportunity to finally discuss with the other Narnians about her concerns.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What should we do, my Queen?” Oreius asked Susan. “Do you think it’s safe to continue?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“At this point we have no choice. I won’t turn back.” Susan couldn’t explain to them, but she felt she was getting closer to something.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We can keep moving, but we have to be careful.” Asterius grumbled. “We need sentinels every time we camp.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan nodded her agreement. “I want all of you to be careful. This isn’t a place where we can hope for the best.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“My Queen.” Reep called. “What about Queen Lucy and King Edmund?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes… I don’t like how we were received and escorted.” She admitted. “However, we are strangers that made contact for the first time out of nowhere.” She conceded. “Still, I’ll write to her as soon as we get to Edoras. Helga.” She turned to her advisor. “Get one of the falcons to go with you. Scout ahead.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The leopard nodded her head. “Yes, My Queen.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They were on the road for some days, when Byron -one of the falcons -came flying at her. “My Queen! There’s a group of riders coming straight at us.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Human?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes.” He confirmed. “They carry the banner of the land.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan sighed. “Let’s see what they tell us.” She dismounted from her horse and turned to her people. “All of you, pull your hoods for a bit.” She asked. “And Jared.” She gave her horse a look. “Don’t be a know-it-all.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The horse snorted but agreed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It wasn’t long before they could see the group of men coming in their direction. They were clearly interested in getting to the Narnians, so Susan just waited. She then watched as the éored circled her small party and pointed weapons at them. Her people lowered their heads because it would be difficult to explain fauns and talking animals to men of the Mark.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>One of the riders talked to them. “Who are you?” He demanded.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan pushed her hood back. “Easy, Rider of Rohan. We’re not enemies.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He scoffed. “Yet you carry weapons.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan held on to her diplomacy. “Those are difficult times and, can I point out you have over three hundred men behind you?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Would it be easier for you if I were alone?” He hissed at her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>What was wrong with this man? “Has anyone ever told you you’re paranoid?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He glared at her. “How often has your life been threatened, My Lady?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Often enough.” That was it. Diplomacy could take a rest. “And it’s ‘Your Majesty’, rider.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Majesty?” He snorted. “And what place do you call home?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Narnia.” She told him simply.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What is a Queen of Narnia doing so far from her land?” He wanted to know.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan arched an eyebrow at him. “Apparently, I’m being interrogated.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What would you have me do?” He demanded. “Just accept strangers in our land?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>One of her people gasped in outrage at his tone, but Susan just tipped her head back. “You could get off that high horse of yours and talk to me.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He gave her an incredulous look, but finally decided to dismount his horse. He took off his helmet, and Susan saw herself being pinned down by a pair of angry brown eyes. “Are you supposed to be the Gentle Queen?” He asked, showing that he knew a bit about Narnia.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Trust me, Rider.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “If I give up on being gentle, you’ll be the first to know.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He pressed his lips together, and Susan took the moment to take a deep breath in. “I don’t want us to misunderstand each other.” She told him politely. “I’m here as a possible friend. Would you give me your name, Rider?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He gave her a sideways look, before he apparently remembered his manners. “Éomer, son of Éomund, Third Marshal of the Mark.” He bowed his head. “I apologize for my manners, Your Majesty.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No harm done.” She spoke, as she watched his men putting their spears down. “As I said, I’m Queen Susan, from Narnia. I’ve come to visit.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I know. We’ve received your letter.” His eyes still held some mistrust as he looked at her. “Are you on your way to Edoras?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes. These are my people.” She indicated the Narnians around her, and she could see the moment he finally noticed the centaurs.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Are those…”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes.” Susan gave him a polite smile. “Now, if you know about the letter, you were at Edoras when it arrived.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m…” He had to pull his eyes away from the centaurs. “I’m the King’s nephew.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I see. I think we should talk.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lord Éomer accepted Susan’s request for a talk, and his men prepared to set camp. Susan introduced him to her people. If she thought he was shocked by the centaurs before, there were no words to him finding out her horse could speak.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She let him have a few minutes to absorb all of this. She could see his men were also eyeing the other Narnias, and she wondered when they’d have the courage to just approach them and talk.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Finally he came to talk to her, and Susan introduced him to those closest to her on this journey.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You wished to talk, Your Majesty.” He prompted her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes.” Susan had thought carefully about what she’d say now. “Am I correct in assuming you love your country, Lord Éomer?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes.” He replied immediately.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“And I suppose that this brewing darkness concerns you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“More so each day.” He looked at her in silence. “Is that why you’re here?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She nodded. “We’ve heard rumors of a Dark Lord gaining strength. I’ll admit I don’t know the details of what ails this land, but we do know it’s not only here. Gondor seems to be suffering as well, which means the enemy is powerful.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You seem to know a great deal, my lady.” Éomer said, and Susan could hear the accusation in his voice.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I do.” She admitted. “My siblings are now in Gondor, trying to form an alliance with them, like I’m here for. We want to help you prevent a war.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Éomer scoffed. “We can’t prevent it, Queen Susan. War is imminent."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan sighed sadly. “I know you have no reason to trust me, my lord, but can you explain to me what is happening here?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>For a minute, she’d thought he wouldn’t. It didn’t seem like he wanted to tell her, probably out of loyalty to his country. She was a stranger and he didn’t know her true intentions.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Eventually he decided to tell her some things. It was obvious he was keeping parts of it to himself -probably the ones more closely related to state of affairs in Rohan. However, what he told her gave Susan a partial scenario of what they were facing.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Orcs. Saruman. A possible betrayal.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He didn’t talk about his uncle, and Susan could see it pained him. Éomer briefly mentioned the King’s health was weak, but he also didn’t explain how.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“And you’re not our only visitor. Queen Sansa from the North is here as well.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“The North?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“She said they’re now independent from Westeros. She also said that a woman called Dragon Queen is seeking an alliance with Gondor, and that’s why she’s here.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>That wasn’t good. “Do you think she’s trying to get allies against another Queen?” Susan asked, frowning.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“There’s something about her…” Éomer snorted. “I don’t trust her.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan hummed her understanding. “Did she bring an army?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No. She brought a few people. Even less than you did.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan didn’t want to make assumptions about Queen Sansa, but it was quite hard at this point.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Only time can show us if someone is trustworthy or not.” Susan spoke softly. “Therefore, my lord, I hope time can show you that I am. I have no ill intentions towards your land.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Éomer shook his head. “You should leave. This is not your land, this is not your battle. Go back to your people.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan sighed. “Thank you for your concern, Lord Éomer, but I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan knew -instinctively - that Lord Éomer wasn’t inclined to trust her. It went a bit beyond the fact they were strangers; he seemed determined to be wary of her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He wasn’t extending the same courtesy to most of her people, though. He’d spent a long time talking to Jared -her horse -and the centaurs -especially Oreius.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan hadn’t interfered because she imagined that, if anyone could convince him of their good intentions, it would be her people.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was quite later -when she was considering going to sleep -when he came and took a seat next to her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“How was your talk with the others?” She asked politely.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It was…” He shook his head, amazement clear in his expression. “It was like nothing I’d ever thought I’d see. The stories, the magic… This place must pale in comparison, and I can’t believe I’m saying this about my country.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan chuckled. “There are different types of magic and beauty out there, Lord Éomer. The Mark has plenty of both.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>This time he was smiling when he looked at her. “You are very diplomatic, my lady.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’ve been known to be stubborn sometimes.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He sighed. “So have I. I apologize for how I treated you earlier.” He told her, and this time he sounded more honest about his apology.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I understand the fear that grips you.” She told him, because it was the truth. “The inevitability of a battle, the fear of a war… Those things can eat away our trust, burden our shoulders. A man like you, a leader, has even more to worry about. There are no hard feelings.” She grinned at him. “But I admire your new found manners.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He snorted, but kept on smiling.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It took Susan a while to realize they were looking at each other in absolute silence. She could almost believe Éomer was looking at her in distrust, if it wasn’t for the unguarded expression on his face.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She turned her face and cleared her throat. Susan could feel a blush coming on for whatever reason and she just hoped he couldn’t see it. “I should rest. We still have a long way to go.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes.” Éomer stood up. “I’m sorry for keeping you, Your Majesty.” He bowed and left before she could say anything else.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And deep down Susan felt grateful, because she didn’t know what she would’ve said.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Éomer and his men left the next morning in a different direction and Susan continued on her way to Edoras. It was quite close now.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Eventually they could see the Golden Hall from far, the city itself so close.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“My Queen?” Jared called when Susan didn’t make any motion to move. “Is everything alright?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>There was something…</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I need a minute.” Susan said.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She had chased a feeling all the way to Rohan. A dream about horses and fire, and it had served her well. She felt she was in the right place, there was something to be done there and it was the time.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Maybe her part in all of this was small, maybe it was just a small wave, but she had to be there.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But…</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She turned to Asterius. “Asterius, I need you to do something for me.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The minotaur nodded immediately. “Yes, My Queen.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Take ten others with you and go back to Gondor, to Queen Lucy and King Edmund.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“My lady?” He was confused.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I can’t explain.” She sighed, somewhat frustrated. “I just feel this is what you have to do. Please.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Asterius exchanged a look with Oreius, but then nodded again. “I’ll leave now, my queen.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“And take this.” She took off her ring to pass to him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I cannot take this…”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Take it.” Susan insisted.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Before they’d parted, Lucy had passed the ring to Susan. It contained a single drop of her cordial, and she’d given it to Susan to use in an emergency.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“My lady…” Asterius started. “You can’t give me this. If something happens to you…”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Take this.” She insisted once again, this time her voice showing this wasn’t a request. “Use it when the right time comes. I have faith you’ll know when that is.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Asterius didn’t seem convinced -or happy with his orders -however he trusted his Queen. He nodded, chose ten other companions and left.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan hadn’t expected a warm welcome, but she certainly had thought it’d be this bad.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>People entered their houses as soon as they saw the Narnians walking down the streets. Doors were unceremoniously closed in their faces, as Susan made her way to the steps that led to the Golden Hall.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The man who received them by the door seemed unsure of what to do. He’d asked for their weapons, but then he looked at Helga -a leopard full of teeth-, then at Oreius -a centaur who was far taller than him- and probably realized it might not make a difference if they gave up their weapons or not.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Either way, Susan ordered her people to comply, but only a few of them entered behind her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The first thing that hit her inside the hall was the smell. It smelt like decay, but she couldn’t point out where it came from.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The King was sitting on his throne, like a ghost with a dark shadow by his side.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Éomer had told her to be wary of Gríma.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Hail, Théoden King.” Susan bowed her head to the man. “It is an honor to meet you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Queen Susan of Narnia.” She barely heard his reply, his eyes didn’t move from the ground, he hardly moved.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan saw a young woman a bit behind the King, but she didn’t know who that was. Only then, she noticed in her peripheral vision another group of people. She wouldn’t move her head to look at them immediately, but she was convinced those were the people from Westeros. Or the North, or whatever they called themselves now.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She waited for the King to say something else, but it soon became clear it wouldn’t help. The man in black -Gríma - approached the King and whispered by his ear, and Théoden just nodded.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You honor us with your visit, Your Majesty.” Gríma finally said. He got up so he could properly bow to her, then introduced himself. “I hope your journey was uneventful.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It was, Lord Gríma.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You are probably tired. A maid will take you to your chambers so you can rest before the next meal.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>That seemed too easy.  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan was on her way to the hall for dinner, when she came face to face with Queen Sansa Stark. She had only two people behind her; a tall woman and a man.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Queen Susan.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Queen Sansa.” The two Queens locked gazes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Jaime, who was behind Sansa, found all this frost in the air amusing. He didn’t think the Narnians felt quite the same.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What a surprise.” Susan continued. “I’d heard you don’t leave Winterfell that often.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sansa’s smile had an edge of ice. “Funny we should meet so far from our homes, isn’t it?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Rohan probably wasn’t expecting two Queens of such power to visit and to stay there at times like these. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I find it less funny and more… Concerning.” Susan finally said.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sansa nodded. “Those are dark times after all.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“They are indeed.” Susan arched an eyebrow at the other woman. “But what brings you to Rohan?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“The same as you, I’d guess.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Susan seemed surprised by the news. “So you’ll also fight this war.” It wasn’t a question, but Sansa knew she wasn’t convinced.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What’s one more at this point?”</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The next chapter will be Éowyn’s, then the story will start following a bit more the events of the movies and not focus on one lady at the time. So just hold on a bit more.</p><p>Also, get ready because in Éowyn’s chapter is when I basically just decided to do whatever I wanted, and you might notice it by the pairing…. hahahaha</p><p>Susan’s request to Asterius is much more relevant than it might seem, and it was my way to fix a small problem I created myself. You’ll see soon ;)</p><p>I chose Asterius and Oreius (from the movies of Narnia) because I liked them. And that’s exactly the same reason Reep is around, because I do love that mouse. Helga I made up, because I think Susan would look fierce having a leopard friend.</p><p>I also want to remind you that the chapters are on the POV of the lady in question. So we don’t know what everybody else is thinking, the things narrated are basically their impressions of what is going on. This applies to Susan’s interaction with Éomer and Gríma and also what the other ladies noticed so far.</p><p>Let me know your feelings.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Éowyn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As promised, this is probably the chapter where things go completely weird. (Or you know, more than the original premise for this series).</p><p>At some point I had considered leaving Squirrel and The Monk out of the story (even though they were part of the series of snippets that started this), but I was already commited to the insanity, so what's one more?</p><p>Thank you for the comments and kudos.</p><p>I hope you enjoy it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Éowyn would sometimes dream. She dreamed about many things: freedom, glory, peace… She dreamed about going back to simpler days, when she believed she’d always be happy.</p><p>As the days grew darker and more suffocating, she felt a hopelessness that both scared and depressed her.</p><p>Her uncle’s health was deteriorating fast, Éomer and Théodred were always away -fighting to defend the Mark -and at Edoras...</p><p>There were few places where Éowyn could find peace. She felt as if Gríma followed her every step and she was even more firmly stuck in a cage. It was like her feet were sinking in mud and she couldn’t run or save herself.</p><p>Picking herbs outside the walls of the city was one of the few activities she could do alone. She could run away from here, but… What about her uncle? She couldn’t leave him alone.</p><p>She was getting ready to get back inside when she saw the boy and the man on the horse.</p><p>“HELP!” The boy called as soon as he saw her. “HE IS HURT!”</p><p>Éowyn picked her skirts up and hurried towards them. The man had passed out behind the boy, his weight resting on him. “What are you two doing out here like this?” Éowyn asked, looking around, concerned about what could be hunting those two.</p><p>“Please!” The boy cried instead of answering. “You have to save him!”</p><p>Éowyn took a deep breath in. “Calm down, child. You need to tell me exactly what happened.”</p><p>There were many tears falling down the young boy’s face and Éowyn could see he was just a scared child. “He fought so many of them. It’s because of me. If I hadn’t…”</p><p>Éowyn had to cut his tirade. “No tears. Tears won’t help now.” She told him firmly but not unkindly. “We can shed them later, after we take care of your friend, right?”</p><p>The boy took a deep breath, then nodded. “Yes.”</p><p>Éowyn sighed in relief. “What’s your name?”</p><p>“Squirrel.”</p><p>“Hello, Squirrel. I’m Éowyn.”</p><p>Now… How was she going to get them both inside the city? Gríma had eyes everywhere, and he wouldn’t just allow outsiders inside Edoras. It left a bitter taste in Éowyn’s mouth acknowledging this fact, but this wasn’t the time to look upon things with anything but honesty.</p><p>“Come with me.” She pulled at the horse’s reins and guided them closer to the walls of the city.</p><p>“I need you to wait here for a bit.” She told the boy, once he was down from the horse. “Can you do that? I need to find a way to get you somewhere safe.”</p><p>He nodded immediately.</p><p>“All will be well.” She told him, hoping it wasn’t an empty promise. “Wait here.”</p><p>There weren’t many who were willing to openly defy Gríma these days -even those who believed he was controlling the King somehow. However, Éowyn was well loved and respected by the people, and she knew exactly who she could trust in a situation like this.</p><p>Léoith was an old woman who worked at the palace for a long time, until her knees started troubling her. She despised Gríma with a passion and constantly offered a helping hand to Éowyn.</p><p>The young lady didn’t have much time to explain what was the problem, but Léoith waved away her concern and ordered her older grandsons to go and help her bring the people to her house.</p><p>They got a cart and went outside. Squirrel and his friend were smuggled in and taken to the house.</p><p>“He’s in bad shape.” Léoith commented upon getting a proper look at the young man.</p><p>“Please, help him!” The boy asked once again. “This is my fault! If I hadn’t…”</p><p>“Hush, child.” Léoith shushed him. “Go wait outside.”</p><p>Squirrel seemed reluctant, but was eventually convinced that they could treat his friend -Lancelot, the boy said was his name -better if he didn’t distract them.</p><p>Léoith got Derngar to help them. He was as ancient as she was, but he’d been a healer for a long time. He had to stop working because his eyes weren’t as good as before, but between all of them, they’d have to figure something out.</p><p>Lancelot was truly hurt. There were many wounds, and some of them were infected. He had a fever and had lost a lot of blood. It was clear that, at some point, the boy had tried to care for his wounds, but didn’t have the necessary supplies.</p><p>They did the best they could, but Derngar wasn’t feeling hopeful. He said it really depended on how strong Lancelot was, and that they would keep a close eye on him, but…</p><p>Things didn’t look promising.</p><p>Éowyn could only think of the boy.</p><p>Léoith’s daughter told Éowyn she’d fed the boy and he was sleeping, clearly exhausted.</p><p>“Has he told you where he’s from?” Éowyn asked.</p><p>“No. It was really hard to get him to even sit to eat; he was so worried about his friend. Kept saying it was his fault.”</p><p>“They aren’t from here.” Éowyn could see this much.</p><p>“Do you think they’re from Gondor? Maybe Dunlendings?”</p><p>“I don’t think so.” Éowyn sighed. “I’ll be back here early tomorrow. If there’s any problem, let me know.”</p><p>***</p><p>Éowyn sneaked back into the palace, since it was late and her dress was covered in blood. Léoith had lent her a cloak, and she could hide behind it, but if anyone saw it, she’d have to explain what had happened.</p><p>She was almost at her chambers, when Gríma’s voice made her halt. “A late stroll, my lady?”</p><p>Éowyn took a deep breath in before turning. “I wished for some quiet.”</p><p>Gríma took a few steps closer. “You’ve been out most of the day.”</p><p>Éowyn raised her chin, unwilling to let him interrogate her inside her uncle’s hall. “I did not know I needed permission to go on walks.”</p><p>“I just worry about you, my lady.” Gríma told her, his voice deceptively soft. “So many dangers outside these walls… And we have a Queen coming to visit soon. Your uncle will need your help to receive the guest.”</p><p>She despised when Gríma used her uncle to make her feel guilty. She’d been acting like the lady of the keep for a long while now, and she knew her obligations. She didn’t need a man like Gríma to remind her.</p><p>“My uncle has nothing to worry about.”</p><p>***</p><p>Éowyn couldn’t go and check on the guests in the next morning. Everywhere she went she felt as if there were eyes following her.</p><p>It made her angry to feel this trapped inside her uncle’s house, but she had no choice. If she went to Léoith’s house now, Gríma’s men would find Squirrel and Lancelot.</p><p>Therefore, she took care of her duties, as she prepared a chamber for the Queen of Narnia, who should be there soon.</p><p>On the following morning she managed to sneak out. She wouldn’t be able to spend much time at Léoith’s, but she could check on the patient and the boy.</p><p>“He’s still alive.” Léoith said as a greeting. “The boy is a fighter.”</p><p>Éowyn sighed in relief. “How about Squirrel?”</p><p>“You mean Little Percival?” The older woman snorted. “That one is a hard nut to crack.”</p><p>Éowyn found Squirrel -Percival? -by Lancelot’s bad, veiling the man’s sleep. “Hello, Squirrel.”</p><p>“Lady Éowyn.” He got up quickly and presented this awkward bow to her. “Hi.”</p><p>Éowyn smiled kindly at him. “How are you?”</p><p>“Worried.” He confessed.</p><p>“Léoith told me your name is Percival.”</p><p>He groaned. “She said she wouldn’t feed a squirrel, only a boy with a real name.” Éowyn had to fight to not laugh. “But I don’t like that name.”</p><p>“I’ll call you Squirrel then.” She promised him. “But you need to be honest with me. What happened to you and your friend?”</p><p>He lowered his head, his shoulders slumping. “You’ll hate me if you know the truth.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Everyone in our country does. They hunted us, killed our families. I don’t even know if there’s anyone left.”</p><p>Éowyn could see as his eyes were filled with tears, but he tried to hold back. He was full of pride and really brave for his age, but he was still a child. She grabbed his hand and pulled him a bit closer.</p><p>“Squirrel, have you ever hurt someone weaker than you? Preyed on the innocent?”</p><p>“Never!” He stated immediately.</p><p>“Then I won’t hate you.” She promised. “Tell me what happened.”</p><p>He seemed conflicted, his eyes going to Lancelot. Then he sighed and started telling her.</p><p>***</p><p>Éomer had returned to Edoras, and Éowyn had asked him to stay just for a few days, so she could run freely. When her brother was around, Gríma dedicated all his attention to him.</p><p>Éomer wanted to know what she was doing that required distracting Gríma, but Éowyn was weary of telling him then. She promised to tell him as soon as she was sure it was safe.</p><p>Squirrel had told her he was a Fey, and his people had been hunted mercilessly at his country. His parents were dead and he didn’t know about his friends. He told her he’d been stupid and got captured, and Lancelot had risked his life to save him. That was why he was so hurt.</p><p>They’d ridden for days, but he didn’t even know they’d entered Rohan.</p><p>He was constantly worried about Lancelot. He’d insisted on sleeping next to him, and he kept vigil by his friend’s sick bed.</p><p>The same night Queen Sansa suddenly arrived in Edoras -and after Éomer had left -Éowyn went to Léoith’s house, only to find that Lancelot was burning with fever. He’d been doing much better recently, so this had come out of nowhere.</p><p>Éowyn couldn’t leave Léoith alone in this situation, so she spent the night there, helping in anyway she could, even when -at times -it meant just drying Squirrel’s tears.</p><p>She didn’t think Lancelot would survive that night.</p><p>***</p><p>Awareness washed over him, painful and bright. His whole body hurt and burned at the same time. “Where am I?” Lancelot -once the Weeping Monk -gasped as he tried to sit up.</p><p>“You’re awake.” A soft, female voice said from somewhere near. He felt a hand on his shoulder. “You’re safe.”</p><p>He was confused. “The boy…” Squirrel. Percival. “Where’s…”</p><p>“He’s sleeping on the bed next to yours.” The same voice told him. Lancelot tried to turn and see, but was unable. “He was afraid you might disappear if he closed his eyes, but exhaustion won in the end.”</p><p>He blinked, trying to clear the spots in his vision. “Is he hurt?”</p><p>“No.” She finally became clear to him. A woman with blond hair and sorrow in her eyes. “You, on the other hand, are lucky to be alive.”</p><p>He closed his eyes. “Is it really luck?”</p><p>Her movements stopped abruptly and a silence followed. “Have I wasted my efforts on someone who doesn’t wish to live?” Her words were acid.</p><p>He sighed. “Maybe I’m someone who doesn’t deserve to.”</p><p>He opened his eyes once again, and she was right there, close to him, looking down on him. “That boy cried the whole night by your bed.” She indicated the bed where Percival should be with her head. “Can you say that to him?” She demanded, but didn’t wait for an answer, because it was an obvious one. “Then don’t say it to yourself.”</p><p>***</p><p>Éowyn thanked Léoith as she passed her the fresh sheets, before she started hurrying back to Meduseld.</p><p>She climbed up the steps only to find Queen Susan outside, as if she was waiting for her. “Lady Éowyn.” Susan gave her a kind smile.</p><p>Éowyn cleared her throat. “Your Majesty.”</p><p>Éowyn didn’t understand the Queen very well. She’d arrived the day before -two days after Queen Sansa- and she’d been talking to Gríma and trying to talk to Théoden, but Éowyn never managed to know the content of those conversations.</p><p>“Would you walk with me?” Susan asked. “The court life here is much quieter than Cair Paravel and I feel bored.”</p><p>Éowyn pressed her lips together, unable to believe this woman would be so callous when it was obvious their kingdom was suffering and grieving.</p><p>However, Susan was a Queen, so Éowyn accepted the arm the woman offered her and they started walking.</p><p>They walked in silence for a good while. “Is this far enough that we can talk?” Susan suddenly asked, her tone low, her vague smile still on her face.</p><p>Éowyn’s whole body tensed. “Your Majesty?”</p><p>“Do you think Gríma has done something to your uncle?” Susan pushed, still with the same tone of voice and expression.</p><p>“There’s nothing I can prove.” Éowyn said carefully, since she didn’t know exactly what the woman wanted.</p><p>“Éowyn, I’m on your side.” Susan assured her.</p><p>“You don’t even know what side I’m on.” Éowyn told her through gritted teeth.</p><p>“We both know you’re here for your people and your uncle. Gríma doesn’t care about any of that.”</p><p>“And you do?”</p><p>“It may be hard to believe, but I do.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't remember if they used the name England or Britain or anything of the type in "Cursed", which is why I didn't use anything.</p><p>I was in doubt about using 'fey' or 'fae'. However, most of what I looked about Cursed used the word spelled as 'fey' so this is the one I went with.</p><p>Since all the ladies had their chapters, now the story will actually begin. Or at least being properly and in a more chronological order, and with mixed perspectives throughout the chapters.</p><p>So in the next chapter we'll get to see better how Susan, Sansa and Éomer are dealing with each other, besides Lucy and Marge back in MT.</p><p>Remember, you can always find me on tumblr @madamebaggio</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Interlude - Lorien</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a short cut-scene, just so we know what’s up with the Fellowship and if Boromir is thinking about Marge ;)</p><p>(Chapter order changed, so Éowyn's chapter could be before this one)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Their stay in Lórien had already reached its second week. Aragorn didn’t wish to linger, but they all needed the rest and the comfort.</p><p>Losing Gandalf had been a big hit to them all and he worried for the Fellowship.</p><p>Most of all, he worried about Boromir, which was why he tried to talk to the other man. He knew Boromir felt uncomfortable being there, as he was unable to forget Lady Galadriel’s voice whispering in his head.</p><p>Aragorn understood Boromir to an extent, and he could sympathize up to a point. He truly believed the Captain was a good man; he was just scared.</p><p>However, people could do dangerous things when they were scared. That was the problem.</p><p>“You are quiet.” He commented, approaching the man.</p><p>Boromir nodded absent-mindedly. “Do you know anything about Westeros?”</p><p>It was the last thing Aragorn had expected to hear from Boromir. “Westeros? The Seven Kingdoms?”</p><p>“Now it’s Six.”</p><p>Aragorn frowned and took a seat next to Boromir. “I have to admit… I’ve been there once, a long time ago. I’ve never returned, and I admit I haven’t thought about it in a good while.”</p><p>“There was a war.” Boromir informed him. “The North became independent.”</p><p>The North? Was this somehow connected to Lord Stark? “How do you know that?”</p><p>“When I was on my way to Rivendell I came across this woman.” Boromir told him. “Lady Tyrell. She was on her way to Minas Tirith to talk to my father. There’s a new Queen in Westeros, and she wants Gondor’s friendship.”</p><p>Aragorn was intrigued. “Why?”</p><p>“And why now?” Boromir threw back. “That was what I was thinking about. It only just occurred to me that this can’t be a coincidence. The time…”</p><p>“Do you think it has something to do with the One Ring?”</p><p>Boromir sighed. “It just occurred to me that the timing is suspicious.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Aragorn asked, no accusation in his voice.</p><p>“It slipped my mind.” Boromir admitted. “By the time I got to Rivendell we had the Council, then we were preparing for the journey… I pushed the encounter to the back of my mind.”</p><p>“Then why did you remember it now?”</p><p>Boromir indicated an elf maiden who was a few meters away from them. “Lady Tyrell was wearing a dress of the same color when we met.”</p><p>Aragorn looked from the maiden to Boromir, an eyebrow arched. “How pretty is this Lady Tyrell?”</p><p>Boromir snorted. “Plenty.” He confessed. “And she knows it.”</p><p>Aragorn couldn’t help but chuckle, but he soon became serious. “It is odd that they’re here now.” He agreed. “After all these years of distance, it makes little sense that Westeros chose to pursue any kind of alliance with us.”</p><p>Boromir just nodded his agreement. Aragorn put a hand on his shoulder. “However…” He continued. “We have our own concerns now and we should focus on the journey. Your father isn’t a foolish man; he can handle the people from Westeros.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Come find me on tumblr (where the real madness happens)<br/>@madamebaggio</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let me know your feelings.</p><p>And remember: you can also find me (and more snippets of this story) on tumblr @madamebaggio</p></blockquote></div></div>
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